Chapter 25
Isabella’s POV
Sleep did not come easily.
Even after my conversation with Alessandro, after deciding Draco’s fate, I couldn’t shake the weight pressing on my chest. For years, I had dreamed of vengeance, of making him suffer the way he had made me suffer. And yet, when given the choice, I had let him live.
I didn’t regret it. Not really.
But a part of me still wondered if I had made the right decision.
The night air was crisp as I stood by the open balcony, the estate’s vast gardens stretching into the distance. The moon hung high above, bathing everything in silver light.
A gentle breeze blew past, rustling the curtains behind me. I hugged my arms to my chest, inhaling deeply.
I had spent so long fighting to survive, so long trapped in a cycle of pain and fear, that I didn’t know what to do now that I was free.
The sound of approaching footsteps made me tense.
I turned just as Alessandro stepped onto the balcony, his dark blue eyes locking onto mine. He was dressed in his usual all-black attire, his sleeves rolled up, revealing the intricate tattoos along his forearms.
"You’re still awake," he murmured, leaning against the railing beside me. I exhaled slowly.
“So are you.” He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“I don’t sleep much.” I studied him for a moment. Despite his composed exterior, I could sense the tension rolling off him.
“Is it because of me?” I asked quietly. His jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t deny it. I swallowed.
“Alessandro, I don’t want to be a burden to you.”
His eyes darkened, and before I could react, he stepped closer, towering over me.
“You are not a burden, Isabella,” he said, his voice sharp. “You are my mate.” I hesitated.
“But what if I never become the person you need me to be?” His gaze softened, and he reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent a shiver down my spine.
“You already are,” he murmured.
The air between us grew thick, charged with something I wasn’t ready to name. I looked away, my fingers tightening around the railing.
“ I just don’t know how to move forward from here.”
Alessandro sighed, stepping back slightly.
“Then let me show you.” I frowned.
“What do you mean?” He tilted his head toward the door.
“Get dressed. We’re going out.” I blinked.
“Now?” A smirk tugged at his lips.
“Now.”
\---
Twenty minutes later, I found myself sitting in the passenger seat of Alessandro’s sleek black car as we sped down the empty roads.
The city lights blurred past in streaks of gold and silver, the hum of the engine filling the silence between us.
I glanced at him.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” he said cryptically. I huffed, crossing my arms.
“You like keeping secrets, don’t you?” His smirk widened.
“It keeps things interesting.” I rolled my eyes but didn’t press further.
Eventually, Alessandro pulled into a dimly lit street, stopping in front of a nondescript building. He killed the engine and turned to me.
“Come on.”
Curious, I followed him inside. The moment I stepped through the doors, I realized where we were.
A fighting gym.
The space was large, with several sparring rings, punching bags hanging from the ceiling, and a handful of people training. The scent of sweat and metal filled the air, and the sound of fists hitting pads echoed around us. I turned to Alessandro in confusion.
“What are we doing here?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he led me toward one of the rings, where a muscular man in his late thirties was wrapping his hands.
The man looked up as we approached, his eyes narrowing slightly before a grin spread across his face.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Don Lucifer himself.” Alessandro rolled his eyes.
“Cut the dramatics, Marco.”
Marco chuckled, stepping forward and shaking Alessandro’s hand. “What brings you here?” His gaze flickered to me, curiosity flashing in his eyes.
Alessandro gestured toward me.
“She needs training.”
Marco’s brows lifted.
“She?” He turned to me, his gaze assessing. “You ever thrown a punch before, sweetheart?” I crossed my arms.
“Don’t call me sweetheart.”
Alessandro smirked at my response, but Marco only laughed.
“Feisty. I like it.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“And to answer your question—no, I haven’t.”
Marco sighed dramatically, shaking his head.
“That’s a damn shame. But don’t worry, we’ll fix that.”
I hesitated, glancing at Alessandro.
“Are you sure about this?” Alessandro’s expression turned serious.
“You need to be able to defend yourself, Isabella. And Marco is the best trainer I know.”
Marco grinned.
“Damn right, I am.” I exhaled, nodding slowly.
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
\---
Training with Marco was nothing like training with Alessandro.
Where Alessandro was precise and controlled, Marco was chaotic and relentless. He pushed me harder than I thought possible, forcing me to throw punches until my arms ached and my knuckles felt raw.
“Again,” Marco barked as I hit the punching bag. I gritted my teeth, throwing another punch.
“Put more force into it!” I swung harder, frustration fueling my movements.
“Better,” he muttered. “But you’re still hesitating. You’re still holding back.” I huffed, wiping sweat from my forehead.
“Because I don’t know what I’m doing!” Marco smirked.
“Exactly. And that’s the problem. You’re too caught up in your head. You think too much. Fighting isn’t just about strength—it’s about instinct.”
I frowned.
“Instinct?” He nodded.
“You’ve survived this long, haven’t you? You have the instincts. You just need to trust them.” I inhaled sharply, his words settling deep inside me.
Trust my instincts.
I clenched my fists, stepping forward again. This time, when I threw my punch, I didn’t think. I just acted.
The moment my fist connected with the bag, something shifted inside me.
Power. Control.
For the first time, I felt like I wasn’t just surviving.
I was fighting.
Marco grinned.
“Now that’s more like it.” I exhaled, my muscles burning, but for the first time in a long time, I felt alive.
I turned to Alessandro, expecting some sort of reaction. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something dark, something proud.
“You’re stronger than you think, Isabella,” he murmured. I straightened, my heart still racing.
For the first time, I believed him. And I wasn’t afraid anymore.